


Wild Golden Storm

by Akumeoi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (20/30 bc canon ages), Age Difference, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Implied Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum - Freeform, Loving Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem, Self-cest, Time Travel, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-07 03:01:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/Akumeoi
Summary: Sometimes learning to love yourself requires a little magical and a little sexual intervention.





	Wild Golden Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ninemoons42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninemoons42/gifts).



> Inspired by her works [Moon Triplet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13532184) and [Storm Triplet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14586141), which you should read if you like the idea of one Prompto and two Noctises. Spicy!
> 
> **Don't like, don't read.**  
>  **Do read, don't judge.**

The air was heavy with the promise of rain, grey and oppressively humid. Prompto, too, felt grey. His technicolour coat might appear bright to strangers on the street, but his face was set and tense as he hurried through Insomnia, trying to make it home from Noct’s house before the skies opened up. 

Once inside, he ripped off the jacket, shoving it haphazardly at the coat rack, ditched his boots by the door, and made his way upstairs with his backpack dangling from one hand. It was just the weather that was making him tired, he told himself. It had nothing to do with weight, there was nothing he was carrying that he hadn’t already been carrying for over half his life. Prompto was the luckiest man alive, since he got to kiss and touch Noctis whenever he wanted, as long as they were in private. Expecting anything more would be stupid, especially for a damn impostor Nif like him who should probably have been shot on sight rather than let into the Prince of Lucis’s bedchambers. 

He felt weird and uncomfortable in his skin, the wrong size, too heavy, too tight. Thunder rolled in the distance as Prompto stripped off the rest of his clothes save for a tank top and boxers, but he didn’t even hear it. He plopped himself on his bed, scrolling numbly through his phone until he fell into a doze. Prompto drifted in and out of sleep as a few errant drops of rain tinted the windows and eventually, night came down.

When Prompto woke up, it was dark inside his room, a shaft of grey light from the window illuminating but a faint pool on the floor. It still hadn’t started raining in earnest yet, and he was hotter and more uncomfortable than ever. He was also sorta hungry, so he duly padded to the kitchen, ate some Cinnamon Toast Crunch straight out of the box, then headed back upstairs to the bathroom to splash water on his face. 

Gods, he looked like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, hair squashed flat to his head on one side from where it had been pressed against the pillow. After making a quick attempt to comb it back to order with his fingers, he gave up and headed back to bed.

Prompto paused outside the door to his room. The bedside light was on, painting a thin strip of the floor in front of the closed door in gold. Prompto was certain he had not left the light on. But he had heard no one come in, no one moving inside the still confines of his house. So, swallowing nervously, he raised his hand and opened the door. 

Inside the room was a man, sitting on Prompto’s bed. Prompto recognised him instantly - would have recognised him anywhere. Golden hair, soft, unstyled, falling in layers around his face. Soft blue-violet eyes set under sharply slanted eyebrows, odd and alluring but marred by dark shadows below. A spray of freckles across his cheeks, and a black leather wristband clasped over the right wrist. 

Prompto, himself. 

Prompto, himself, but clearly a few years older and sporting a small but carefully groomed beard. He was wearing a red tank top and patterned boxers, just the same for both of them, but for some reason he made younger Prompto’s breath catch in his throat. Perhaps it was the wild golden light, or the incessant drumming of the rain against the window, like the dark rhythm of a heart.

The older of the two stood, and Prompto noticed how the light clung to his form as if he glowed from within. Their eyes met again, and Prompto felt compelled to approach him. His lips parted, but he did not speak. Instead, they drew towards each other, irresistibly, as if pulled together by magnets. Ozone crackled in the air, the room itself seeming to contain the storm. Their fingers brushed, and Prompto instinctively closed his eyes and tilted his head, electricity sparking against his hand. Then the other Prompto’s lips closed against his, kissing him with sweet, soft breath. Prompto wanted to meld against him, to press into that lean, strong, familiar-unfamiliar body, but he couldn’t let himself. Instead, he put his hand up between them and drew away.

“Who are you,” he murmured, though he thought he knew the answer. 

“I know it’s gonna sound weird, but I’m you,” the other Prompto replied, “From like 11 years in the future.” He nuzzled against the side of Prompto’s face, then leaned forward so their foreheads brushed. Their breaths mingled as they stood together, the two of them unable to bear separating even moments after their first meeting.

Younger Prompto hesitated, wanting to believe future Prompto, but feeling it couldn’t be true. What kind of magic did this?

Future Prompto spoke again, and his voice was so low that nobody but Prompto could have possibly heard him, even if an intruder had been standing just three feet away. “Our biggest secret is that we’re from Niflheim.” His fingers closed around Prompto’s wrist, clad in its safe leather band. Prompto froze. “Our other secret is that we’re in love with our best friend.”

“Yeah,” younger Prompto said, hollowly. “Yeah.” Future Prompto let go of his wrist, but almost instinctively, Prompto took his hand, their fingers twining together.

“Why are you here?” he said. He wanted to ask, _Are you here to have sex with me?_ because that’s what it felt like, but he was afraid of the answer being yes or no either way.

Future Prompto smiled, bittersweet. Younger Prompto could almost taste it. “I’ll give it to you in a nutshell. I know you don’t love yourself. I’m not that great at it either. But you. I love you. So I’m here - I didn’t know what to expect, either. But it feels like I know what to do. If you don’t feel it too - tell me. I can’t let myself hurt you.”

Prompto did want it. Every fibre of his body was crying out to let future Prompto do whatever he wanted with him. And loving himself - that was something he’d never thought possible. Future Prompto’s thumb was gently stroking the back of Prompto’s knuckles, Prompto’s other hand already gripping future Prompto’s waist. And he could feel himself getting hard - from the light, the proximity, the electricity. He swallowed again. 

“I feel it too,” he admitted, low. Future Prompto huffed out a breath, and the sound went right to Prompto’s dick. “But Noct-” he started. His arrangement with Noctis wasn’t a real relationship, but it was supposed to be exclusive. For secrecy and for safety.

“After I fuck you,” future Prompto said, and both of them felt it, the use of that word - both Promptos shivered, “You can do all the stuff we do, with him. And if he asks where you got the idea, just say you taught yourself. It’s not a lie and you bet he’ll like it.”

“I see I get smarter in my old age,” Prompto huffed out, trying to hide how turned on he was already, after just some kissing and one use of the word fuck. Nobody but Noctis was supposed to be able to do this to him. 

Future Prompto just laughed, said breathlessly and lovingly, “Smartass,” and kissed Prompto’s lips again, wet and open-mouthed. Closing his eyes, Prompto let himself fall into it. The slide of lips and tongues against each other, hungry and demanding; the sounds that they made - slick and breathy, warm and wanting. 

Hands slipped beneath clothing, and they stood kissing for a while. Familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, everything reversed. They were hitting all the most tender spots simultaneously, future Prompto just as reactive as younger Prompto as hands brushed over wide planes of back, soft sides and strong chest, and sensitive nipples. Prompto could feel quite a few scars on future Prompto’s body, patches of skin that were rougher than the rest. 

“You joined the Crownsguard,” future Prompto said breathlessly as Prompto’s fingers lingered, leaving him shivering. 

“Good idea?”

“Yeah.”

Then younger Prompto tensed as he felt future Prompto’s hand dipping into his boxers, sliding to the V of his waist, the outside of his hip and finally to the inside of his thigh. He moaned into future Prompto’s mouth, dropped his head to nuzzle his face into the crook of his neck and let his thighs part as the other Prompto teased the sensitive skin there, cupped Prompto's balls and then ran his hand down to the other thigh. Future Prompto continued feeling him like this for several long moments, as he held his thighs stiff to keep from rutting up against future Prompto. He desperately wanted to, but was unsure of what the other Prompto expected. 

“Come on, dumbass,” future Prompto said in his ear at last, and Prompto let out a strangled laugh and let go, grinded up against his thigh, felt him rut against him in return. Their moans of pleasure as their dicks rubbed together through thin cloth were nearly simultaneous. 

Now future Prompto was backing them towards the bed. He paused to take off his tank top, so younger Prompto did too, and was rewarded with wet kisses on both of his nipples which made him clutch at future Prompto’s hair. He had no fear of how his older self would see his body now, felt no need to cover up his stretch marks. Only felt the pure pleasure of that mouth gliding over his skin, pausing to suck heady marks that bruised or nip soft bites that left Prompto gasping and wanting more. He felt his mind spinning with giddy abandon, lost in his desire and unafraid to do anything future Prompto wanted him to, though he didn’t quite know how to _ask_ him for it.

And the direction he was going was down, gracefully pulling Prompto with him so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed with future Prompto’s head between his thighs. He kissed the inside of each knee as he gently lifted Prompto's hips and divested him of his boxers. The cool night air hitting his exposed dick reminded Prompto that _yes, this is real_ , as did the feeling of future Prompto’s weight nestled between his legs, the puffs of breath against his skin as he kissed the crease of his hip.

Then future Prompto was paying full attention to his lightning-scarred stomach and hips - teasing him, always teasing him - his thighs, his balls, before finally moving on to his dick and taking him into his mouth. Prompto’s eyes closed and he helplessly clutched at the sheets with one hand, his other curled in future Prompto’s hair. Future Prompto skillfully used both tongue and lips to full effect, as well as one hand to caress the bit of Prompto’s dick his mouth wasn’t big enough to suck. For long minutes, Prompto gave himself over to future Prompto’s attentions, moaning and gasping out unexpected vocalisations of pleasure as that clever mouth moved on him.

Then future Prompto pulled away and looked up at him, lips red and eyes hooded, and Prompto swallowed hard, feeling again that inescapable tug to kiss him, to join with him. 

“You - you -” Prompto stuttered, valiantly trying to convey that he didn’t want this to be only about him, that he wanted to touch future Prompto and make him feel good as well. But it seemed like he already understood, rising to his feet and reaching to take off his boxers.

“Let me,” Prompto panted out, covering future Prompto’s hands with his own, pulling the shorts away from him, and finally touching his dick for the first time, too. It was weird to be holding his own dick but not, but he liked the weight of it and its velvet warmth, the feeling of power and connection that came when his hands made future Prompto moan or fidget his hips. 

It was Prompto’s turn to guide the other Prompto down onto the bed with Prompto kneeling over him. Future Prompto seemed amused by this turn of events, smiling at him through half-lidded eyes. Prompto kissed that smiling mouth, feeling the taste of confidence under his tongue. Determinedly, he began to kiss future Prompto's scars, as he would want done for him. Future Prompto was beautiful as he delivered himself into Prompto's hands, opening himself up to every inspection as his body flushed red with heat and his breath came in short bursts, mouth open and eyes squeezed shut.

"I'm getting close," he panted out, as Prompto kissed matched-pair scars at the top of one thigh, his hand working future Prompto's dick. Pulling himself up, he returned to kissing future Prompto's lips, while the other Prompto opened his legs and wrapped them loosely around Prompto’s body to begin grinding together with him again. Their hands moved in time between them. Future Prompto reached back and began fingering Prompto’s ass, and Prompto groaned and nearly lost it right there. He was getting so close, his breathing ragged and desperate, his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. 

Future Prompto wasn’t much better, throat tipped back and and movements becoming erratic. Just as Prompto was on the verge of letting go, future Prompto grabbed his wrist, fumbling with both hands for the wristband that hid his barcode. Prompto was too out of his mind with pleasure to question it as future Prompto ripped off the wristband, kissed the back of his wrist, then scraped his teeth along it, simultaneously reaching down between them to bring Prompto to completion with long, ragged strokes. Both of them came at once, their eyes locked and future Prompto’s mouth still pressed against Prompto’s barcode.

Then Prompto collapsed beside him, utterly exhausted. It was only now that the electricity in the room was waning that Prompto realised how strong the magical connection between them had been. The other Prompto must have been exhausted as well, but he pulled Prompto to him protectively, stroking his hair and pressing kisses to his face. Prompto caught his future self's wrist, and finally shucked off his wristband as well, kissing his barcode once before releasing his hand and draping an arm over him instead. Prompto was suffused with a peace, cradled here safely in his future self’s arms, and soon fell asleep. 

Several hazy hours later, he woke again suddenly, feeling as if he had just remembered something urgent he needed to say. But there was nothing in his mind, nothing he could hear at first but future Prompto’s breathing and the calming patter of the rain against the window. The golden lamp on the bedside table was still on. He blinked his eyes open, pressed a kiss to Prompto’s shoulder and tried to disentangle himself without waking him, but future Prompto woke up then, just as instantly alert as he. He sat up quickly, eyes darting around the room. When they landed on Prompto’s face, he gave a tired smile. 

“Can’t believe I’m here with you,” he said, so warmly that Prompto flushed. It was so weird to think that anyone would feel that way about him, much less himself. “How’re you feeling?”

Prompto found himself blushing again. He could have said something like, _How do you think, dude?_ but he wanted to be honest. “Good. Confused about this situation. But… maybe better than I have in a while.”

Future Prompto smiled, a smile that Prompto could tell was honest in spite of how good the both of them were at faking it. 

“Me too,” he admitted, then looked sort of sad. Prompto’s heart instinctively ached for him, but he didn’t ask. They both had their secrets to carry. As much as he wanted to know what the future held, he knew he would only torture himself with it. Just knowing that he would still be alive and able to laugh and make love 11 years in the future had to be good enough for him. So instead, he sat up and gently kissed future Prompto's cheek, receiving a soft nuzzle in return. 

A question came to Prompto’s mind, a pressing one, one that he’d wonder about the rest of his life if he didn’t ask it now. 

“What you said earlier,” he said in a small voice, taking a deep breath as he did so, “do you really love me?”

“I know, weird, right?” future Prompto said, smirking. 

“You’re not supposed to say that!” Prompto exclaimed, but both of them were laughing. 

“Well it’s true,” future Prompto said. “We never thought we’d get to this point, did we?”

Prompto sighed, the weight of his two secrets pressing down upon him. As if he knew what he was thinking, future Prompto said seriously, “You should tell Noct. About how you feel about him. About Niflheim.”

“What? No, I can’t,” Prompto said immediately, eyes widening and anxiety thumping his chest. “What, are you crazy? Do you want me to be deported - or arrested - or, I don’t know, beheaded?”

“Yeah, I thought that too,” future Prompto said, shaking his head. “Noct…” he smiled, bittersweet and fond beyond Prompto’s comprehension. “He won’t let you down.”

“I, uh, buh, he what?” Prompto said intelligently. “The crown prince of Lucis is just gonna be okay that his best friend is a science experiment from an enemy nation whose parents might be spies.” He spoke sarcastically, but just saying the words aloud made him cringe.

“Your best friend Noct who’s in love with you, you mean? Yeah, I’d say so,” future Prompto answered. At the words “in love with you,” Prompto put his head in his hands and groaned. “Dude, you gotta do it,” future Prompto continued. Prompto sucked in a frightened breath, and future Prompto paused. The dark pressed in on their small island of light.

“It might be the only way…” future Prompto began, turning away, “…to make a future that doesn’t suck. For everybody. You and Noct included.”

His voice was heavy with things unsaid. Prompto shivered, wrapping his arms around himself and taking a deep breath.

“You mean that?” he said, biting his lip to keep his voice from trembling at the thought of all that _telling Noctis_ might entail. Anger from him. Perhaps betrayal. Another storm to come, and Prompto couldn’t bear the thought of losing him to it. But then, maybe the skies would one day part to sun if future Prompto spoke the truth.

The other Prompto nodded, looking seriously into his eyes. “Yeah. I do.”

Prompto’s lips began to tremble, even pressed together as they were. Future Prompto gently cupped his face, kissing him over and over until he started to relax and the fear melted away. When he could breathe again, he found himself cradled beneath his future self, the weight of him pressing down warm. They joined together as before, future Prompto reassuring, cajoling, and caressing with every movement. Prompto came undone for him a second time, falling into the feeling of trusting him, himself. He couldn’t fully grasp it - this feeling, whatever it was, this euphoria that pulled at him and carried him away, this _trust_.

And then finally they were still. His limbs felt heavy and still, soft, like he could stay lying here for another eleven years in comfort. 

“I’ll do it,” Prompto said after a while, in the dark.

Future Prompto heaved a sigh of relief, pressing his sweaty forehead to Prompto’s and closing his eyes. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Absolutely no negative comments of any kind. All other comments are gratefully accepted. Thanks for your understanding.
> 
> Song for this fic: [The Storm](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpfObnvdsYw) by The Cardigans, which I found by reading a Zack/Sweets Bones fic. Funny how these things work.
> 
> Thank you to Sejha, E, and Ninemoons for the support.


End file.
